


Let’s Go Far Away, Kid

by shewho



Category: Gay Pirates (song), Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Boys Kissing, Brother Feels, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Come Swallowing, Consent Issues, Cuddling & Snuggling, Death, Deathfic, Denial of Feelings, Desire, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, I hope, Incest, Kissing, Lazy Mornings, M/M, Morning Sex, Mutual Pining, Nightmares, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Canon, Rimming, Sibling Incest, Sleepy Cuddles, The Drift (Pacific Rim), Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, can i add another incest tag?, i think...?, just a little, lazy morning sex, the Beckets broke the Drift oops, this will all come, to start with
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-30
Updated: 2013-09-01
Packaged: 2017-12-21 22:27:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/905674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shewho/pseuds/shewho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Becket brothers deserve so much better than they've had.</p><p>Basically a Pacific Rim fic inspired by/complete with lines from Gay Pirates. Because why not?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It’s You

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [让我们走得远远的，小子](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1729883) by [toudarling (enagismos)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/enagismos/pseuds/toudarling)



                Raleigh walked into the mess hall and immediately heard his brother. He couldn’t be sure if Yancy actually _was_ talking that loudly (in which case, _shut up,_ Yance, it’s way too early for that) or if he could just hear him better (thanks to the Almighty Drift, hallelujah). Either way, the younger of the Becket brothers loped over quietly and sat down hard beside his brother, plucking a triangle of toast off of Yancy’s plate and shoving the entire thing into his mouth.

                “Now that wasn’t very nice,” Yancy chided him, the reprimand accompanied by a sharp slap to the back of Raleigh’s head, making him see red and yellow. Raleigh wouldn’t recommend trying it to anyone who hadn’t yet been privy to such a smack; it hurt like hell.

                “If you don’t know by now that I’m gonna come in here every morning and steal your toast, we may have a problem.” He leaned against his big brother and mumbled something about coffee, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

                “Not until you ask nicely.”

                “I’m gonna hurt you if you don’t give me my coffee. And I’m not gonna feel bad about it.”

                “That threat gets real old real quick when you say it every day, kid.”

                “I hate you.”

                “Say please.”

                Raleigh threw his arms around Yancy as theatrically as possible. “Oh, please, biggest bestest dearest darlingest big brother, please, please, _pleeeease_ can I have my coffee now?”

                “I suppose so.” Yancy plunked a chipped mug down in front of Raleigh, who grabbed it greedily and began sucking it down. He pulled a face, “Don’t see how you can drink that crap.”

                “You’re drinking it.” The words came out just a little bit echoed, due to Raleigh’s refusal to move the cup more than half an inch away from his lips.

                “Yeah, but with lots of fake-cream and fake-sugar and stuff. As is? That stuff is way too salty for me to even drink.” There was something in the water there, something that Yancy didn’t want to think about too hard. Raleigh finished off his first cup of coffee with a loud slurp and pushed the cup in front of Yancy. “Whachou want me to do with that?”

                “Get me more?” Raleigh said, looking up through his eyelashes, deceptively innocent.

                Yancy rolled his eyes, “Why I do nice things for you…” He stood up from the table anyways and grabbed the handles of both their mugs in one hand, headed off to get more coffee. He glanced back over his shoulder to see Raleigh snag the last piece of toast from his plate and flash him a practically-patented Becket grin as he popped it into his mouth. “Saw that!” he called, turning back around.

                “Hey! I want it black and with, like, _half_ of one sugar,” his brother called out from behind him.

                “Aw, suck my dick.”

                It was so familiar to tease his brother like that, to laugh with him. It made Yancy feel at home, even in their anonymous room in the Shatterdome.

                Raleigh’s laughter echoed through the mess hall. As he laughed, almost everyone at their table and several people at the ones surrounding theirs joined in, even though they had no idea what had started this particular bout of Raleigh Becket’s laughter. Raleigh’s laugh was very loud, contagious, and always so hard that Yancy sometimes worried that he was going to cough up his spleen, or choke, or pass out on the floor. Or all of the above.

                Raleigh’s laugh made Yancy want to grab his brother and pin him against a wall with a hand at his throat and kiss him until he wasn’t just breathless from laughing. And Raleigh would taste like mint toothpaste because he had some weird thing about brushing his teeth at all hours and Yancy would taste like too-sweet coffee and it would be perfect.

                But he could never, _ever_ tell Raleigh that. It really was a minor miracle that he’d managed to hide that part of his brain from his brother when they’d Drifted and it was probably only a matter of time until Raleigh saw something he wasn’t supposed to see and then…but Yancy would deal with it later, would cross that bridge if—when—he came to it. He’d really rather get dropped in front of a kaiju without his jaeger than address the issue of the moment.

                He returned to his table, coffee cups in hand, sat down opposite his brother since a dark-haired man whose grease stained hands screamed “engineer” had taken his spot. “Here,” he grumbled, setting one steaming mug in front of Raleigh and settling down to the nurse the other.

                Raleigh took one sip and slammed his mug down. Hot coffee sloshed over the side, burning his hand, and he hissed in pain. He made a pinched, pained face. “Ugh. Bleh. Wrong coffee. Switch me.”

                “Oops,” Yancy smirked, eyebrows raised as he took a long slow drink of his dessert-sweet drink, making sure to put his lips exactly where his baby brother’s had been.

                Raleigh swished his own ink-dark beverage in his mouth like it was mouthwash before he swallowed and frowned at Yancy. “You did that on purpose,” he glared, accusation hardening his voice.

                Yancy widened his eyes, hoping to look innocent. “Me? _No_. I would never.”

                Suddenly, the public address blared to life with a loud crackle. “Attention, attention, would _Gipsy Danger_ ’s pilots please report to the bridge? Thank you, gentlemen.”

                Yancy slapped the outsides of his legs and stood up, “Alrighty then. Looks like we’re done here, Rals.”

                “Time to save the world?”

                Yancy ruffled Raleigh’s hair, “I wouldn’t hold my breath if I was you.”


	2. The Lies We Hide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a place you can hide things, even in the Drift.
> 
> That is, until you can't.

                Raleigh would never admit it—even under duress—but he had grown up wanting to be just like his big brother. He supposed that that was what he still wanted. The way Yancy dressed, fought, sang in the shower, danced, drank, cheated at cards, told the most ridiculous stories, and scrambled eggs was better than anybody else. But Raleigh would never tell anyone that, because if there was one thing other than jaeger-piloting-talent that both the Becket brothers had in spades, it was pride.

                Yanking himself out of his thoughts, Raleigh smacked Yancy’s shoulder and took off down the hall, his footfalls echoing loudly on the metallic floor. “You’re it!” he shouted, not looking back. He didn’t need to see his brother to know that a huge smile had broken out on his big brother’s face, stretching from ear to ear. They whipped past each other all the way to the bridge, whooping loudly as they played a cutthroat version of hallway tag.

                Suddenly, Yancy stuttered to a halt right in front of Raleigh, who slammed into his back, sending them both pitching forward a few steps. “What in the hell are you two doing?” Pentecost barked in what Raleigh had heard Tendo refer to with an eye-roll as his “NFL-linebacker voice”.

                “Ugh…” Raleigh spluttered.

                Yancy’s mouth pulled up to one side in a wily smirk. “Would you believe me if I told you that—”

                Pentecost held up one hand in a universal “shut-your-mouth-boy” gesture, effectively cutting him off. “No, Becket, I will not believe you.” He frowned, “Get in there and just do what Choi tells you.”

                “Yessir.”

                The two brothers slouched into the testing chamber just beyond the bridge, watched the glass doors close behind them on the Marshall, standing there frowning with his arms crossed, very obviously irritated.

                “What’s up, Tendo?” Yancy called.

                The tech popped up from where he had been crouching behind the machine, fiddling with some wires. He grinned at Raleigh’s expression, “You two piss off the Marshall?”

                Yancy guffawed and shrugged, “Yeah. We made him mad. It happens.”

                Tendo smiled wider as he stood up, wiping his hands on his pants. “Happens a lot to you two.”

                “Well, _duh_. We’re _Beckets_.”

                “Ah, the Becket brothers together in one place. Be afraid, be very afraid,” Tendo quipped. He clapped his hands together and gestured to the Drift chamber. “Step into your offices, gentlemen.” Raleigh and Yancy slipped into the harnesses made special for the testing center, every available inch covered with sensors. They took their sweet time bantering quietly as they did so. “Alright, ladies, come on, let’s go!” Tendo called from the outer chamber, his voice echoing over the comm.

                “Better get in there, huh, kid?” Yancy called as he stepped into his side of the machine.

                “Yeah,” Raleigh grumbled, stepping in beside him. “But at least here, it’s somewhere where the Marshall can’t be mad at us.”

                “You two ready yet?”

                “Yes; you can tell the Marshall we’re good to go!”

                “You can tell him yourselves! I’m sure the sentiments will be both heartwarming and sincere on both sides,” Tendo snickered.

                Laughter crackled in from the boys’ side of the connection.

                “We all set?” Tendo said.

                “Does Rose Kennedy own a black dress?” Yancy sassed back.

                “Raleigh?”

                “Yes, _Daaa-aaad_ ,” he sighed, throwing in an eye-roll for good measure.

                “Neural handshake in twenty.”

                They locked eyes, traded salutes.

                “Fifteen.”

                “Hey,” Yancy said. “So I dreamed you died yesterday.”

                “Ten.”

                “What?!” Raleigh yelped.

                “Five.”

                Yancy shrugged, “Just thought you oughtta know. It was weird.”

                “One.”

                Raleigh’s insides instantly liquefied. Entering the Drift was an eerie feeling: electric, high voltage, jolting through bone and sinew straight to his brain. It was body rush after body rush, intensity building, a mad surge of blood rushing to his head, pounding in his temples and eardrums.

                And then he was in Yancy’s head.

                “Connection’s strong; ninety percent.”

                “Is that the highest they’ve gone?”

                “No sir, but they’re just starting.”

                “How high have they gone, Choi?”

                “Ninety-six, sir.”

                “Hmm.”

                Since Drifting had come into being, there had always been some controversy about whether or not the so-called “hidden space” or more colloquial “hidey-hole” actually existed. If anyone had bothered to actually ask anyone who had Drifted, the issue would have been resolved as soon as it became an issue. As it was, no one had yet, so it remained a debate in the scientific community. But it _did_ exist, and it was a place very few people—no matter how Drift compatible—could tap into in each other’s heads. It was where pilots kept the secrets they didn’t want even their co-pilots to know, where the dirtiest of dirt was buried.

                And that was where Raleigh kept Yance.

                But as soon as he started Drifting, images of Yancy—the ones he kept in the hidden space in his head—were suspended at the edges of his mind.

                Yancy, panting for air, fingers threaded through the back section of Raleigh’s close-cropped hair. He tugged a little, pulled Raleigh’s mouth to his own.

                Raleigh running his hands over his brother’s thickly muscled back, licking along his collarbones. Yancy groaning into his hair. Smiling against Yancy’s throat.

                Looking up at himself, face flushed, eyes dilated, hair mussed.

_Beautiful._

                Wait, _what?_

                Raleigh could feel himself panicking, pulling out.

                “No, Rals! It’s okay, breathe, stay in the Drift!”

                “They’re losing connection.”

                “They’ve never done that before.”

                “No, sir.”

                Sometimes, he just had to turn off the questions, turn off the voices, turn off all the sounds.

                Which was incredibly hard to do when someone else was residing in his head.

                “Stay calm, Rals. Don’t chase the rabbits. Just let ‘em run, kid.”

                In. Out. In. Out.

                Flashes of their childhoods from both points of view.

                “They’re stabilizing.”

                Flashes of their adulthoods from both points of view.

                “Back to ninety…ninety-two…ninety-five.”

                Flashes of the two of them.

                “Ninety-six.”

                Fucking.                                                                                                                            

                “Connection is…connection’s still rising, sir.”

                From both points of view.

                “Ninety-eight. Oh, for the love of all that’s holy; they’re at a hundred percent!”

                “Shut them down. They’ve never been this high.”

                “Rals?”

                “Yance?”

                They stumbled back out, each sagging a little as they exited the Drift. By the time Raleigh got to the chamber, the shakes had stopped. Tendo was all smiles when they appeared in front of him again. “You two broke into the hidey-hole, didn’t you?”

                Yancy swallowed, his lips pale. “We musta.”

                Oh, fuck. What had they done?

                “Brilliance,” Tendo grinned, his face lighting up with childish joy. “Sheer fucking brilliance.”

                Raleigh’s thoughts were still flying at a thousand miles an hour; half of the things he had seen he had never seen before. Which meant that they had been _Yancy’s_ thoughts.

                Pentecost looked almost ready to start shouting but—unexpectedly—stopped. He looked at the ceiling and sighed, pressed his thumb and forefinger against the bridge of his nose. Was he having a heart attack? A stroke _?_ Raleigh thought that maybe they’d actually finally killed him.

                “Congratulations, gentlemen. You’ve just achieved something that few others have. Celebrate a little; sleep a lot. We’ll see you two tomorrow to see if you can do it again.”

                Raleigh tried to smile, but his head started to pound.

                Because seriously...what the fuck?


	3. I Wanna Love You Good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What do you do when you've seen your object of affection's deepest desires...and know that they've seen yours?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, soooo this is my first try at writing smutty(ish?) fic...so please PLEASE I'm begging let me know if it's awful-terrible.

                Raleigh swallowed hard, teeth sawing at his lower lip as he walked briskly towards his and Yancy’s shared room. He could hear Yancy behind him—“Rals, c’mon, wait up!”—and broke into a dead run. His heart was pounding against his ribs when he finally opened the door of their room but suddenly a larger, broader body hit him from behind and knocked him forward over the threshold.

                “Yance, _no_.”

                His big brother nosed at his ear, boxing him in against the wall, hands on either side of Raleigh’s head, “Why not? You want it, too. I saw it.”

                “We _can’t_ ,” he insisted, sounding just on the edge of panic.

                “We _can_. We can, and if you hate it, we’ll stop, I swear…but I just wanna try.”

                “No, Yance, we can’t.” Raleigh’s lower lip twisted when he thought of everything he’d ever been told about incest, “It’s just…it’s so… _wrong_.”

                “Hey.” Yancy captured Raleigh’s chin in one hand, gripping his jaw and forcing to look up into his older brother’s face. “Don’t talk like that. Don’t you even think about shit like that. ‘Cause it’s not true.” Raleigh scoffed as best as he could with his face trapped in his brother’s giant hand. “It’s _not_ , Rals. It’s love; what could be more right than that?”

                “But we’re _brothers_.”

                Yancy’s expression darkened, “You didn’t care when you were jerking off to me jerking you off.”

                Raleigh blushed, felt the heat working its way up his neck and over his ears and across his cheeks. “I…I…”

                Everybody knew how perfect Yancy was—Raleigh better than most—but there was still stuff that only Raleigh knew, stuff that someone could only pick up by spending so much time with Yancy. Like his fucking _mouth_. Lips like a porn star and a tongue so sharp and forked it coulda belonged to the devil himself. It wasn’t like Yancy went out of his way to hide it or anything, but most people just saw the polished jaeger pilot exterior and missed the sarcastic, smart mouth. And most the time Raleigh was glad to be on the inside of the joke, but when the joke turned out to be on him, he just wanted to reach up and take a good smack at that sassy, unfairly pretty mouth.

                So he wasn’t particularly surprised that Yancy’s tongue was ridiculously long as his older brother licked a long stripe up his neck from his collarbone to his mouth, effectively breaking him out of his thoughts. Raleigh moaned against his mouth.

                “There you go, kid,” Yancy breathed.

                Raleigh furrowed his brow and almost protested until Yancy sealed his mouth over Raleigh’s and shoved his tongue into the kid’s mouth, dominating the kiss to the very point of suffocation. Black spots danced in Raleigh’s vision as Yancy sucked at his tongue, tugging at it gently with the edges of his teeth before releasing it and Raleigh pulled back, gasping for air as he did, head spinning, saliva dripping from the corners of his mouth. He yanked himself out of his brother’s grip and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, glaring daggers at Yancy. Two violently pink splotches had risen high on his cheeks and he was still panting, mouth open, showing his teeth as he breathed hard through them. “We can’t.”

                “We just did.” His hands—God, his hands were so big; they completely enveloped Raleigh’s—went to his little brother’s face, tracing his thumbs over Raleigh’s cheekbones.

                “No; wait.”

                “Why wait?” Yancy grinned, “I’m yours, you know. I love you, Rals,” and then he did it again, this time using the hand tangled in Raleigh’s hair to grip the back of his neck. Raleigh felt his knees begin to buckle under him as he allowed his brother to kiss him to the point of dizziness. As he wobbled, he felt one of Yancy’s strong arms wrap around his waist.

                They were pressed together as much as they could be, Yancy still towering over him, no matter how tall Raleigh wished he was. Yancy, for his part, didn’t seem to mind the height difference too much, kept his neck bent at what had to be an awkward angle without complaining, mouth sealed to Raleigh’s, kissing him for all that he was worth.

                “Oh, _Yancy_ ,” Raleigh rasped out as soon as the kiss broke, sounding frantic. “Yance, Jesus _fuck_.”

                Because from there he could see it on his brother’s face like it was written there in thick, dark permanent marker, that he was telling the truth, that Yancy did love him.

                And that close he could see Yancy’s eyes, all dark pupils and sparkling with the miraculousness of it all, and he could see his own eyes reflected back at him, a crazy blue and so fucking needy—

                “I love you.” The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them. And suddenly he and his big brother were so close and yet not close enough.

                He pressed his forehead to his brother’s, wrapped his arms around Yancy’s back, and pulled him flush against his body. Yancy fell forward, loosening the hand from his waist to press it against the wall beside Raleigh’s head, supporting all his weight and giving him a little bit of leverage to thrust against his little brother’s hips. Raleigh slipped both hands under Yancy’s t-shirt, pressing against the warmth and sweat that was pooling in the small of his lower back. Yancy’s other hand came down from the back of Raleigh’s neck to brush over the bulge in the front of his little brother’s pants. “Please,” he whimpered. “Please, please.”

                “What do you want? Use you words. And ask nicely.”

                “You, _please_ , you Yance.”

                He felt rather than saw Yancy’s answering smile. “Your wish; my command.”

                Raleigh slumped against the wall as Yancy tugged at the opening of his pants with one hand, the other tracing up and down over his ribcage, worrying his little brother’s neck with his teeth. He wormed his hand into Raleigh’s underwear, stroking, tugging, pulling the way _he_ liked, paying close attention to what made Raleigh groan and gasp, alternately, and adjusting as necessary. Raleigh could feel the heat coiling at the base of his spine, building rapidly. Yancy tightened his grip on an upstroke, making Raleigh’s breath stutter in reaction. “Ahhh, Yance, Yancy, fuck, FUCK!” he stammered, blowing his load into his brother’s hand so hard that he nearly passed out.

                It was over all too quick.

                “I want…,” Raleigh stammered, eyes glassy, “You…can I? I want…”

                Without hesitation, Yancy reversed their positions and shoved his younger brother down to the floor with little-to-no resistance, appreciative of how the boy’s head lolled to the side, eyes closed, cheeks red.

                Raleigh really wanted to lick the stripe of skin that appeared between the waistband of Yancy’s pants and the hem of his shirt…so he did. He rucked up Yancy’s shirt and tugged his pants down until his hipbones appeared and pressed wet kisses all across the span of tanned skin. “Rals…,” Yancy murmured, his voice sounding strangled. “Don’t tease, c’mon.”

                “Wanna love you good,” he murmured as he pulled his big brother’s pants farther down and watched his hard cock pop free. That was so typical Yancy, going commando, too—whatever—for underwear. He licked a wet stripe down Yancy’s stomach—Yancy’s abdomen tensed under his tongue— and mouthed wetly at his cock.

                “Fuck, yes,” Yancy grit out, fingers scrabbling for purchase in Raleigh’s short-cropped hair. “So good, babe.”

                “Mmhmmm,” he murmured in agreement around his brother and Yancy’s hips jerked forward hard. He wrapped his huge hand around the back of Raleigh’s head, holding it there loosely. It probably wasn’t a particularly _good_ blowjob, but it was obviously serving its purpose when Raleigh glanced up through his lashes and saw his brother’s face.

                Yancy had his head thrown back against the wall, his hair wild and wet and plastered against his forehead. His face was flushed and so was his chest, which Raleigh could see where he had pushed Yancy’s shirt up. He was silent, except for the high hitching breaths that sounded like he was trying to breathe through his nose and mouth at the same time. He looked so pretty that way that Raleigh decided to reward him by going down until his nose was pressed right into Yancy’s pubic bone and staying there, working his throat muscles around the head of his brother’s dick in time to the rapid pulse of his own heart. Yancy let out a low, strangled sound, scrabbled at the back of Raleigh’s head, and came down his little brother’s throat before Raleigh had a chance to pull back, forcing him to swallow thickly or else actually possibly choke to death.

                Yancy tugged Raleigh up by his shoulders and stared into his face. “You okay, Rals?”

                “Yeah.” Raleigh startled at the sound of his own voice, so rough and wrecked.

                Yancy smiled sorta shyly and leaned in to kiss him, gently, at the ticklish spot in the corner of Raleigh’s mouth. Raleigh shivered and bit back a giggle. Yance laughed, and ran his hand through the soft bristles of his little brother’s hair.

                Raleigh collapsed against his brother’s chest and pulled the collar of his shirt to the side, sucked at the spot where his neck joined his shoulder, earning himself a moan from deep in Yancy’s chest. He realized a split second later that the sound was most likely never supposed to reach his ears because Yancy flushed red and clenched his teeth.

                “God, fuck, Yance,” Raleigh whispered, his lips moving gently against his brother’s neck and pressing light, desperate kisses against the bare skin there. “That was—Jesus, please, please, Yance, just please say we can do that again.”

                “Yeah, babe. We can definitely, _definitely_ do that again.”


	4. You’re My Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s alright, Marshall. I’ll take good care of him. He’s my boy.”

                Pentecost sighed, letting his head fall forward into his hands. “Jesus, Choi. What’ve we done?”

                Tendo grinned so wide that the sides of his smile practically met in the back of his head. “Well, if you believe the reports, the impossible.”

                The Marshall lowered his hands, a pained expression settling over his features. “They’re going be a nightmare after this, aren’t they?”

                “They aren’t already?” the tech asked with a raised eyebrow.

                The older man breathed deeply, resisting the urge to smack his bowtied technician upside the head. “You know exactly what I mean. ‘Fuck or fight’, that’s where they’re headed, right? They’re going to start rowing all the time.” He slammed a hand down on Choi’s desk, “Dammit.”

                Tendo giggled— _giggled_ , seriously—knocking his elbow against Pentecost’s. “I think it’ll all probably be okay.”

                Pentecost glared at him, “Care to explain how? You know very well that I cannot run a functioning Shatterdome if my two best pilots are at each other’s throats at all hours. You’ve seen them bloody each other up when they’re just play-fighting; what makes you think that it won’t get exponentially worse when they are fighting for real?”

                His grin now rivaled that of the infamous Cheshire Cat. “Well, for starters, I don’t think that the Becket brothers are the fighting type…”

                Pentecost stared, “Oh, you can’t be serious.”

                The tech shrugged, “They don’t call it ‘fuck or fight’ for nothing, Marshall.”

                “So I won’t have to deal with them fighting…but I’m going to have to deal with them,” his lip twisted somewhat in disgust, “Fucking.”

                “Oh, please,” Tendo rolled his eyes. “Don’t act like it hasn’t happened before; don’t act like it hasn’t happened under _your_ watch before.”

                “Isn’t that just my life,” he muttered.

                “Life isn’t fair,” the tech snapped. “Of anyone here, you oughta know that much by now. And luck? That’s something you create.” He started out the door and then turned back to shoot a grin over his shoulder, “So it looks like you better get to work, Marshall.”

                The Marshall shuddered and settled in for a long night of what he was certain would be unpleasant research.

                The next morning at six-thirty sharp, as with every other morning, all the Shatterdome’s overhead lights snapped on at once, buzzing loudly to life. Raleigh groaned and rolled onto his side, burying his face in his pillow. After a moment, he fumbled his way out of the bed, eyes still squeezed shut. Logic stated that so long as he kept his eyes closed, he wasn’t _really_ awake and it didn’t _really_ count. He took two steps forward and walked right into a wall of flesh and muscle. Fuck. “Fuck,” he muttered, eyes snapping open.

                Yancy ruffled Raleigh’s hair and brought his head down to rest against his little brother’s. Yancy normally gave off approximately as much heat as a small furnace, so it was shocking when their foreheads touched and his skin—oddly—was cold where it pressed against Raleigh’s. “I was dreaming you were dead,” he murmured, his big blue eyes still clouded with sleep.

                “Oh my god,” Raleigh rolled his eyes. “Shut up.” He yanked himself away from Yancy, retreating into their tiny shared bathroom. He took a cold shower, hoping it would clear his head, but all it did was waste twelve minutes. After twisting off the water and violently drying his hair, he walked out with just a towel draped around his waist and Yancy traded him, moving into the bathroom to brush his teeth. Raleigh dropped his towel, ignoring the catcall Yance gave him from where he was watching in the mirror, and pulling on a pair of standard issue pilot pants.

                Yancy turned and grinned at Raleigh, his teeth feeling tight from the baking soda in his toothpaste. “Ready set, kid?” he inquired as he fretted at his hair harshly.

                He nodded an affirmative, “Let’s go.”

                They trudged toward the testing chamber on the bridge, yawning widely. “Hey, boys,” Tendo greeted them cheerfully, looking way too chipper for the hour.

                They each responded in turn with an it’s-too-early-for-me-to-properly-wave wave.

                “Good morning, gentlemen,” Pentecost greeted them much more severely.

                “Hello, sir.”

                “I’m not sure if you two realized it yesterday, but breaking it the hidden space in both of your subconsciouses could be highly dangerous to both your Drift and your ability to work effectively as a team.”

                There was a sparkle in Yancy’s bright blue eyes as he grabbed Raleigh in a loose headlock, grinning at the Marshall. “It’s alright, Marshall. I’ll take good care of him. He’s my boy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all still like this story; it's wrapping to a close, only a chapter or two left before the big finale! Enjoy!


	5. You Hold Me Above

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time skippy yaaay.
> 
> Time had passed since the last chapter. I don't know how or how much, but it has. Handle it.
> 
> The power goes out at the Shatterdome and the Becket boys are left to entertain themselves.
> 
> /smut ensues.

                Raleigh groaned, burying his face in the valley between his pillow and Yancy’s. It was early. And cold. He shivered. The bed dipped behind him and warm smooth skin pressed suddenly all down his bare back. He sighed in pleased contentment.

                “Sorry,” Yancy whispered. “Power went out. Backup generators are running the computers and not a lot else.”

                “How’s Tendo taking that?” Raleigh said softly, his voice slurred with sleep.

                Yancy chuckled, “Not real well. Everything went offline for six minutes and I’m surprised he didn’t wake you up, too, the racket he was making.” His younger brother tugged the blankets back up over both of them. “Go back to sleep.” Raleigh curled up tighter, pulling Yancy’s arm around his waist.

                “What about our patrol?” he whispered.

                Yancy smiled into the back of his neck. “Cancelled. No lights in the hanger, no charge for the jaegers. Just sleep,” he murmured, tugging his baby brother even closer. Raleigh snuggled into him and slept.

                He awoke a second time to a loud, choked-off whimper.

                It was Yancy, thrashing so violently that Raleigh was afraid his brother might fall out of bed and hit the floor, his face contorted with obvious trouble, a frown furrowing his brows even in sleep. He whimpered again, louder and lower.

                Raleigh knew the old wives tale: if you’re whimpering in your sleep, you’re screaming in your dream.

                “Yance! Yancy!” he hissed. His voice was tight, scared, as he shook his big brother’s shoulders.

                “Raleigh?” he whimpered, coming awake.

                “I’m here, Yancy. It’s me. It’s your Raleigh. It’s me.” He was leaning over Yancy, looking down, his eyes boring into his brother’s. “It’s alright now. It’s me. It’s just me.”

                “Rals,” Yancy breathed. Fear etched his little brother’s face and he wanted to reach up, wipe it away, along with the tears shining in his big blue eyes. “Don’t cry, babe,” he whispered.

                Raleigh laughed a sort of choked laugh, brushing at his eyes with one hand. “Are you okay?”

                “Are _you_ okay?”

                “Yeah, why?”

                “I had a nightmare.”

                “Yeah?”

                “Yeah. Dreamed you died.”

                “Again?” Raleigh sighed.

                “Again.”

                He sighed and curled back up against his big brother’s chest, letting Yancy stroke his fingers gently through Raleigh’s hair. The warmth of Yancy’s body felt heavy and safe beside him. It was such a rare feeling that it sometimes brought tears to his eyes when they cuddled like that, which both confused and disturbed Yancy, but he seldom mentioned it. He ran his hand over his older brother’s body, memorizing the feel of muscle and bone. Yancy responded with a sigh. “I love you, Yance,” Raleigh breathed into his brother’s collarbone, feeling Yancy’s arms tighten around him.

                He pressed a kiss to his baby brother’s forehead and yeah, likewise, like Raleigh said, he loved him. “I love you, too, kiddo.” He smiled, “If I still had a tape deck, I’d make you a mixtape full of sweet kitschy oldies love songs. I’d draw a hippo playing the piano on the cover, and I’d even color it in for you, and I’d write the track list in my neatest printing. But I don’t, so this’ll have to do instead.” He flipped them over so that he was leaning over Raleigh and started mouthing lightly at his neck. He licked and kissed across Raleigh’s collarbone, and over the tiny little white scar between his collarbone and the joint of his shoulder, from a long-forgotten sledding accident (as tended to happen when the sledding took place indoors and down the main staircase of their house). “You’re so good, Rals. So pretty,” he murmured as he ground down against his little brother’s hips for a long minute before pulling back suddenly to suck bruising kisses into the delicate skin of his neck again.

                Raleigh let out a pathetic little mewl and raised his hips, pushing himself against Yancy’s stomach, adamant on getting some friction, his bottom lip pushing out into a pout.

                Yancy laughed, but went back to work anyways. “I have fucking spoiled you, you little brat,” he drawled, tugging at Raleigh’s jaw to make it open wider, and pushing his tongue into his little brother’s mouth, while simultaneously moving his hand down between them to stroke at Raleigh’s cock.

                Raleigh keened and then frowned at him. “Really? We’re doing this _now?_ ”

                “You got anything better to do right now? Didn’t think so. Besides,” he grinned, “Seems like a waste of a roaring boner.” Raleigh blushed and Yancy smiled wider, “C’mon then, turn over.”

                Raleigh scrambled onto his elbows and knees, kicking the sheet off of their bed. He felt Yancy’s hands, one rubbing up his back, the other sliding down over his ass. He shivered as his big brother pulled his cheeks apart and whispered, “Beautiful,” right into his skin before pressing a slow, sucking kiss over his hole. He whined in the back of his throat, rather enjoying the slight sense of shame at being laid bare like he was by his one and only idol, the one and only Yancy Becket.

                Yancy opened him up slowly, a calculated chaos of fingers and tongue until Raleigh was a quivering, whimpering mess. “Yance,” he wailed, fingers crumpling the sheets in front of him. “Yancy, c’mon.”

                He felt Yancy’s laughter in the huff of warm air hitting his ass. “Aw, Rals, how many times do I gotta tell you? Ask nicely.”

                He grit his teeth, eyes squeezed shut. “ _Please_. Please, Yancy, please, _please_ , _god, fuck_ , just, _please_.”

                “Well, since you asked so nice for me…” Raleigh felt Yancy’s calloused hands at his hips, flipping him over again so that his back hit the mattress.

                He panted up at his big brother, wide-eyed and writhing beneath his weight. Yancy let go of him, sitting back on his hips and reaching over Raleigh into their desk drawer for a condom. He sighed as he ripped open the foil package and tugged it on, knowing that despite how much he desperately wanted to blow his load in his baby brother, to mark up his insides and make Raleigh stand up and leak his come out all over the floor, he really oughta use one. It’d make for a much easier clean up and besides...he could always defile the kid later. Bracing himself over his little brother, hands planted on either side of his head, Yancy eased inside and pressed his mouth against Raleigh’s throat, his hips starting a slow careful rocking motion against the younger Becket’s.

                Raleigh stared up at his brother, taking in his flushed face, the light stubble shading his jaw, his eyes liquor-bright blue and pupils blown wide and dark with want.  “Please,” he whispered, arms coming up around Yancy, fingers scraping at the graceful curve of his big brother’s back. “Please.”

                Yancy groaned, sucking at Raleigh’s mouth, his lips, his tongue, one hand tangled in the hair at the back of his neck to tug him closer, the other curling around Raleigh’s waist as his own hips stuttered in their motion. Raleigh’s thighs answered by falling open and Yancy settled easily into the V shape. “Rals,” he whispered brokenly, breaking the string of continuous kisses, and pressing his forehead to Raleigh’s temple, lips grazing across his sharp cheekbone as he came. “You good?” he mumbled after a minute, still collapsed over Raleigh’s chest.

                “Yeah,” he whispered, blushing. “I kinda…already came.”

                Yancy placed a sloppy kiss on his cheek. “So easy for it, my baby brother.”

                “Well, it’s hard not to be easy when I’m getting fucked six ways to Sunday by the man I love.”

                Yancy pulled back and stared at him, “You mean that?”

                “Course I do. I’d drown in this world if not for you. You’re the only thing that holds me above.”

                “Damn, Rals. I love you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, all. THIS IS THE SECOND TO LAST CHAPTER, SO SAVOR THESE BOYS WHILST YOU CAN.
> 
> EDIT: I lied; there is also an epilogue. Okay, so third to last chapter. What the fuck ever.


	6. Together We Will Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Whadda we got?” Yancy called when they walked into the bridge.
> 
> “A holy mess,” Tendo replied tersely. “Now go,” he added, shoving at Raleigh’s shoulder playfully. “And don’t make a big fucking show of it.”

                The alarms went off just as it seemed that Raleigh might get a decent night’s sleep, blaring as all the overhead lights snapped on at once. Yancy stirred and spread himself over his entire bed, stretching his totally naked body shamelessly. Raleigh clambered out of bed, leaned over, and kissed his bleary-eyed brother. “Wake up, Yance. We got plans today.”

                Yancy raised an eyebrow, eyes still half-closed. “Go ‘way,” he grumbled, easily pushing his little brother off.

                “Gotta go save the world, one sea monster at a time.”

                “Hate you,” he sighed, rolling out of bed and pulling on the first pair of pants his hand touched.

                “Naaah,” the younger Becket grinned, tugging on his own clothes. “You loooove me.”

                Yance rolled his eyes. “I unfortunately _do_ love you, kid. I don’t know _why_ ‘cause you’re annoying as _hell_ , but I do. ‘S prob’ly got something to do with that sunshine smile of yours.”

                They were just inches, like always. Rooms in the Shatterdome were pretty small; economy, they had jokingly called them at first. Raleigh reached up and touched the little scab of the shaving nick on his brother’s chin. “S’that hurt?”

                “Nah,” he grinned. “This one time, I cut my hand on the runner of a sled, when I was, I dunno, six, maybe?”

                “Oooooo, what was it like?” Raleigh laughed, mocking him.

                Yancy cracked his knuckles, “What you nose is gonna look like if you keep that up.”

                “I could take you.”

                “Could not.”

                “Could so!”

                “Could not.”

                “So!”

                “Not in a million years, kid.”

                “Wanna bet?”

                “Sure. I love winning bets.”

                “Fuck yourself. If I win, you gotta give me all your deserts for a month.”

                “And if _I_ win—which I will—you gotta be my personal slave for fifty-seven hours.”

                “That’s oddly specific,” Raleigh commented with a raised eyebrow.

                “What can ya do?” he shrugged. “So we good?”

                “Yeah, it’s a deal.”

                “Spit shake on it,” Yancy offered out his palm.

                “Dude, no, that’s gross.” Raleigh pushed his hand away, pulling a face.

                The older Becket brother cocked an eyebrow, obviously trying not to laugh. “You’ve sucked my dick, kiddo; how is a spit shake gross?”

                The younger rolled his eyes in response, “C’mon, asshole. Let’s just go.”

                Yancy took another step forward and clasped Raleigh’s shoulder, his hand warm and heavy even through the thick jacket. “Ready to kick ass and take names?”

                “’ _Knifehead_ ’? Oh, hells yeah.”

                “Whadda we got?” Yancy called when they walked into the bridge.

                “A holy mess,” Tendo replied tersely.

                Raleigh grabbed Yancy’s hand and in a moment, they’d intertwined their fingers and were chanting the little ditty one of the Canadian mechanics had taught them a few weeks back, staring each other directly in the eye. “Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, bless the seas we fight upon and if we do our very best, may the good Lord do the rest.”

                “Yes, very nice, gentlemen. Now go,” Tendo said, shoving at Raleigh’s shoulder playfully. “And don’t make a big fucking show of it.”

                He rolled his eyes and Yancy flipped Tendo off over his shoulder as the two of them made their way into the jaeger and stood still, heads tipped back, watching the sky as the top of the hanger opened up. “Hey, Yance!” Raleigh called. “Climb the highest mountain…” he began, flinging a smile his brother’s way as he felt the jaeger lock they into place.

                “And punch the face of God!” Yancy finished with a laugh.

                And they were Drifting.

                “Raleigh?” Yancy demanded. Raleigh snapped open his eyes, realizing that they’d somehow fallen shut. From the look of concern on Yance’s face, that also hadn’t been the first time that his older brother had called his name. “You alright?”

                “Fine!”

                “No rabbits?”

                “No way; let’s get this beautiful, filthy rust bucket show on the road!”

                He grinned, “Well awwwwlrighty, kid.” They started to move, stomping their way through the water. “Come on, Raleigh, git the lead out!”

                He sneered, “Try to keep up, old man!”

                “Ho-lee shit!” Yancy whooped as the kaiju came into sight. “Holy shit; ‘s gonna be like shooting fish in a barrel, except instead of a fish, it’s a kaiju!”

                Thirty seconds late, _Gipsy_ was flat on her back.

                The cords in Yancy’s neck stood out as he pulled against the restraints, trying to yank her upright with just his one arm. He breathed hard, not looking over, “Did it hurt you?”

                “No!” Raleigh called back. “Just knocked me off my feet! Let’s get this asshole!”

                “Fine by me! Also, just curious, are you a complete fucking moron?! Who gets knocked off their feet like that?” he shouted.

                “Shut up!” So they fought it, perfectly synched up again, perfectly synergized, perfectly attuned.

                Yancy’s face was bright red when they stopped, panting. Then they heard Tendo again, “Guys, I don’t think that it’s dead…” The muscles in his brother’s jaw tightened so fast that Raleigh feared that his teeth might snap.

                “What?” he barked and then Raleigh saw it coming back towards they at blinding speed. “Oh, dear God,” Yance mumbled and the younger of the two fleetingly wondered why his brother would pick then to be a believer. “Rals, get outta the wa—!”

                Icy sea air touched their skin, lifting steam as half of the Conn-pod was torn away. Raleigh was twenty-two years old, and in the worst physical pain in his entire fucking fucked-up life.

                At first, all he saw were the colors, red-orange-yellow and bone. Then there was the pain, and all he could hear were the screams—the one from Yancy and the one that ripped from his own throat. Then he saw Yancy in his peripheral vision as sweat-blood-something dripped into his eye. His older brother stared at him, his own eyes wide. “Wake up!” he shouted.

                There was blood on Raleigh’s cheek and on his palms. “Jesus Christ!” he cried, coughing and wiping at his nose.

                 “Just breathe, Rals!”

                “Harder…than it sounds.”

                “Are you gonna be okay?” Yancy asked. His voice was raised, but it still managed to sound flat and calm. At the same time, though, his teeth were showing, like those of an attack dog.

                “Give me a sec,” Raleigh rasped, not wanting to move, ever again. His eyes teared up when he tried, “I really don’t think I can do this.”

                “Of course you can,” Yancy scoffed. “Fight harder! Be better! Be a goddamn Becket, kid!”

                The younger took a deep shuddering breath, almost a sob.

                “Raleigh, baby, c’mon, just a little more,” he implored, voice breaking.

                “Okay,” Raleigh sighed, surrendering. He stood up and Yancy smiled weakly at him.

                “Not so bad, huh?”

                “No.”

                And suddenly, the glass on his side spider-webbed and shattered and Yancy was gone, ripped right out of _Gipsy_.

                Sweat-blood-something-that-tasted-salty matted Raleigh’s hair and ran down his face. “Yancy!” he shrieked. Riffs of pain trilled through his veins. It felt like his heart—his heart? Yancy’s heart? He didn’t even _know_ —was trying to beat without any blood in it. He tried to swear but the words wouldn’t come.

 _Will people say good-bye to me?_ He heard echoing through his head. _Will people remember me?_

And then it was

                surprise

                what

                shock

                no

                please

                no

                fear

                fear

                terror

                panic

                dread

                pain

                pain

                _pain_

_agony_

_agony_

_torture_

_air_

_no air_

_water_

_blue_

_blue_

_blue_

_black_

_Rals_

_Rals_

_Raleigh_

nothing.

                His head throbbed dully, a heavy ache looming at the base of his skull, bleeding small shocks of pain down his spine as he tried to focus. “Take it easy, Rals.” Yancy’s voice floated to him down a long tunnel. “I’ll see you on the bed of this blue ocean, babe. Sometime. But not now. Not today, kid.”

                He focused on the beach, because he knew that he’d fall apart if he didn’t have something to focus on.

                He felt his brother’s long fingers splay across his cheeks. “Turn your head to one side when this thing falls down or the impact will smash every bone in your face.”

                He grit his teeth and focused on moving, just _one_ inch forward. He couldn’t see with all the blood running down his face, and couldn’t feel his entire left side. It was completely useless. He heard the crunch that meant he’d hit dry ground, hit the beach. He fell forward onto his knees, scrambled to get out of _Gipsy_. The air was bitterly cold through the thin material between the plates of his drivesuit and he knew he wanted to get away from it but he couldn’t figure out how. He just lay there. He couldn’t see anything through the haze of red but he could hear everything, all backlit by the sound of his heart. _Thump-thump. Thu-thump. Thu-thump. Thump._

                And Yance. His big brother’s words were thick with tears, “I’m sorry, Rals. I’m sorry I left you like that.”

                “Let’s all take note on this,” Raleigh muttered, his words slurred a little with blood loss. “If you are so damn ‘sorry’ about it then maybe you should have never done it in the first place.”

                Raleigh got the all-too-familiar sensation of stars exploding in front of his eyes then and heard a loud whoosh in his ears. A breath fought its way past his lips and reached his lungs where it was gone in a moment and he was fighting for another. He realized disjointedly that the pain there could be broken ribs. Vaguely, he felt a hand on the small of his back lifting him up a little. He tried to speak, tell them to _stop; it hurts_.

                It was then that he registered that he was in immense pain. Past “ouch”. Past “shit, we gotta get to the MedBay”. And _way_ past “morphine cocktail, stat!” So bad. _So_ bad. He started (or maybe continued) to cry. Bloody tears ran down his face and into his mouth, tasting metallic and salty. A voice close to him said “It’s okay. You’re gonna be okay.”

                Then he heard Yancy.

                “Everyone knows that bigger scars make better stories, kid.”

                “Yance?”

                “Yes, Raleigh?”

                “You still there?”

                “Yeah, kid. I’m yours, you know. I’m always gonna be here. And I love you.”

                “Love you…,” he coughed, choking on blood, “Too.”

                “Oh, Rals,” he sighed, his fingers tugging through his baby brother’s hair, hand ghosting over his forehead. “We deserved so much better than we had.”

                Then, nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eeeeeee I hope you all liked it and that there weren't too-too many feelings/tears/rage/whatever.
> 
> (sorry for any mistakes, I realized partway through that I'd written a section in first person oops)


	7. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> permit me to make you cry, just one last time.

                As he stepped out of his room one morning in the Hong Kong Shatterdome, he almost ran right into Chuck Hansen, who startled hard when he saw Raleigh. “Aw, Christ,” the pale-eyed Aussie sighed, doing a double take. “I dreamed you died.”

                Raleigh smirked, closing the door behind himself and adjusting the sleeves of his too-big sweater. “Would you believe me if I told you that this isn’t the first time I’ve heard that?”

                Somewhere, from across the Drift, he heard a familiar laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this fic (and might maybe come check out some of my other work)!
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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